A Buffer

A buffer serves as a shield or defense. It is a protective barrier that prevents contact between things. There are times when we are called to serve as a buffer for others. To protect them from the raging storm that threatens to overwhelm and overtake them.

And.

There are times when, as difficult as it is, we are called to move out of the way and let things collide in order for a reckoning with what is to occur. This is true everywhere. Whether talking about the workplace, financial realities, a family, a friendship, a marriage, an athletic team, or a corner office on the C-Suite, change and transformation can’t occur without rubbing directly up against the truth.

Serving as a buffer is an act of love.

So is stepping aside.

Photo from pexels.com

Photo from pexels.com

Is This The ______________ That I Want?


Tom and I had been married about eight years when he spent a couple of weeks teaching at a remote retreat center in the North Cascades, while I stayed home minding the fort. During those two weeks it became clear to me that there was no question that I wanted to be married to Tom. However, that wasn’t the real question. The real question was—Is the marriage we have the one that I want?

It wasn’t.

Those aren’t thoughts one can keep to oneself if one wants things to change.

After he returned we were out running errands one day, and stopped at a Starbucks. I can still see the table where we were sitting out on the sidewalk. I’m sure he was expecting just a nice catch-up visit, so when I quietly told him I wanted to talk about our marriage, a deer in the headlights about sums up his initial reaction. Thankfully, unlike a deer he didn’t disappear into the woods, but leaned forward, and leaned in. That conversation, over lattes, on a sidewalk outside of Starbucks is the conversation that changed the trajectory of our marriage.

Together we began to give voice to what was working, and what was not. We needed plenty of help along the way from therapists who could help us navigate all of the issues that could derail us if we let them. After 25 years together, we still hit brick walls and have to talk about scary things. On any given day, we work hard to bring the best of what we have to each other, with varying degrees of success, but always with the commitment of building the kind of relationship and life we want. Our conversation over coffee that started all those years ago is one that we will probably be having for the rest of our lives. At least it should be if we want to keep building the marriage we want.

The changes in our marriage all started with a hard question, as most hard changes do, and, it is a hard question that can help any of us get to the heart of any matter that matters to us.

Is this the…relationship, parenting approach, community, fitness level, body, friendship, career path, communication pattern, story emotional health, financial reality, team culture, family dynamic, belief system, outcome, home-life, fill-in-your-own-blank…that I want?

If the answer is yes, then we keep on keeping on.

If the answer is no, maybe today is the day to figure out what it is we do want and how to go about getting it.

Photo by James Wheeler from Pexels

Photo by James Wheeler from Pexels





Truth In Advertising

Sometimes a picture says it all.

We were living in Seattle, and my sister and I decided to take our daughters to the mall for a photo with Santa. Can you picture it? Long lines of parents with antsy little ones hyped up on sugar, “Santa” dressed in his well-worn costume, a photographer who’d rather be doing almost anything else, and parents who want to capture the magic of the season in the perfect photo. Good luck with that.

However, when it comes to Christmas and all the pressure to get it exactly right, this picture seems perfect to me, because it tells the real story. The one that makes room for things turning out not at all like we planned, but as things really are.

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Fifteen Minutes

“I have fifteen minutes, and I’d love to spend them with you.” The voice on the other end of the phone belonged to a close friend who was in the midst of his own busy day, and yet was able to find a small window of time for us to connect. A small window was all I needed.

What I was searching for in those fifteen precious minutes was a safe space to say exactly what I wanted to say, unfiltered. I was in need of a place to be heard and seen, and to be able to feel exactly what I was feeling with no attempt made to fix, mollify, or find a silver lining. In that moment there was none to find.

For fifteen minutes he listened, and listened, and listened some more. Safely within the emotional equivalent of a soundproof, padded room, I was able to hear myself speak, and express deep emotions that needed to come out. Those fifteen minutes made it possible to handle the next fifteen. And the next and the next and the next.

We are all in need of safe spaces in which we can show up live and uncensored. Places where we can say what is true in that moment even when what is true is messy, ugly, and broken. It is from there that that we can find our way forward to deal with the mess, discover beauty in our ability to handle what we’ve been handed, and catch a glimpse of how we might put our broken selves back together again. Not put back together as before, but in new ways. Better ways. Stronger, more authentic, and courageous ways. Ways that begin with the gift of fifteen minutes with someone who’d love to spend them with us.

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All The Difference

In my work I frequently, as in almost always, hear client’s frustrations with how things are. They talk about how things should be different. Could be different. Would be different if only…and it is the “if only'“ things that suck up all of their energy, leaving little to none to engage with how things actually are.

It boils down to this, the sooner we stop wishing things were different, the sooner we can get on with actually making a difference.

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels



What We Profess

My new passport came in the mail today. To tell you the truth, I’ve never really examined the pages of of my passport before. Driving home from the post office as I sat in the passenger seat, I thumbed through the pages. At the top of each empty page, awaiting the stamp of any countries visited in the future, are quotes that are meant, I suppose, to reflect the heart of the American people. To profess who we are to the world.

The cause of freedom is not the cause of a race or a sect, a party or a class - it is the cause of humankind, the very birthright of humanity. ~ Anna Julia Cooper

Whatever America hopes to bring to pass in the world must first come to pass in the heart of America. ~ Dwight E. Eisenhower

We have a great dream. It started way back in 1776, and God grant that America will be true to her dream. ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

We send thanks to all the Animal life in the world. They have many things to teach us as people. We are glad they are still here and hope it will always be so. ~ Excerpt from the Thanksgiving Address, Mohawk version

I wonder about those words in my passport. Are we who we profess to be? Do we practice who we profess to be? If we don’t practice who we claim to be, then like the unstamped pages of my new passport, our words are empty.

Photo by Daniel Bendig from Pexels

Photo by Daniel Bendig from Pexels

A Fly In Our Ointment

"Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savour: so doth a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honour." Ecclesiastes 10:1 (King James Version)

Sometimes a memory just shows up and makes you smile and cringe, all at the same time.

Lots of years ago when I was a single mom, making my way back to financial security, I’d finally been able to purchase a small home in a quiet neighborhood. And while I felt proud of that accomplishment, it still didn’t measure up to what I thought life should look like. Most of my friends seemed to have found a way to purchase larger homes, furnished with new furniture, in nicer neighborhoods. Most of my furnishings had been gathered at estate sales, the goodwill, and hand-me-downs from friends and family. It was cozy, but far from classy, and I wanted classy.

Getting ready for a family celebration in our humble abode, I surveyed the wine selection. My budget afforded me to buy jug wine. My vision for what it meant to be a classy hostess meant a selection of lovely bottles. Then I remembered that I had a few empty bottles that others had brought to earlier gatherings stashed out in the recycling bin. I grabbed a couple of the empties, dusted them off, and filled them with the jug wine. There’s more than one way to skin a classy cat! The jug wine appeared for all the world to be the nice wine depicted on the label.

Until.

Pouring the first glass for the first guest, along with the jug wine, out poured a dead fly. Not what you’d call classy. In my rush to put on a good appearance I had neglected to do a thorough cleaning of the old bottles.

Classy is being proud of where you are. Folly is pretending to be where you are not.

Photo by Kaboompics .com from Pexels


Owning It

The Seattle Seahawks lost yesterday.

That was then.

This is now.

Today, the day after the game, is known as Tell-The Truth-Monday. As I understand it, this is the time when everyone involved in the game, including the coaches, tells the truth about what happened in the game, takes ownership for what went well (not enough) and for what did not. It is how they individually and collectively take stock, gather and apply the lessons learned, and move forward. This commitment to the practice of taking ownership doesn’t just happen after a loss, it happens after every game, win or lose. It’s how they get better.

Becoming our best selves requires the same commitment to the practice of setting time aside to tell the truth about what is happening in our lives, and take ownership for what is going well, and, for what is not. It’s not only how the Seahawks get better, it’s how we get better too.

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The Truth

The art of telling the truth takes a lifetime to master. Every day we are surrounded with opportunities to practice saying what we mean and meaning what we say. Telling the truth is as simple as that and as hard as it gets.

When it comes to having the real conversations, the ones that matter, it is tempting to take an easier way out. To couch what we say in general terms and hope they figure it out. To soften the message so that we don’t have to own up to what we really want to say if we had the courage.

Any truth, no matter how inconvenient, can be shared in a way that comes from the best of us. With practice, we can become more skilled at telling the truth as we see it, and more open to hearing how others see it. And that is how it can set us free.

Photo by Daniel Bendig from Pexels

Photo by Daniel Bendig from Pexels